


a gentler nor more merciful prince there never was

by greensleeved



Series: my lute be still for i have done [1]
Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Jane Parker comes back as a lady in waiting, mentions of beheadings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:26:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21700720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greensleeved/pseuds/greensleeved
Summary: Jane Parker Boleyn and Anne Boleyn have their first conversation since reincarnation.
Series: my lute be still for i have done [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1565164
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37





	a gentler nor more merciful prince there never was

Anne Boleyn was standing on the stage, alone, looking into the empty audience. She had wanted sometime by herself, before they began getting ready for the performance that night. She didn’t need the practice- she had everything down pat, perfected. But she wanted to think.  
“You know that I never did it, right?”  
A voice came from the wings of the stage, before the stage manager stepped out of the shadows, allowing Anne to see her; her sister-in-law.  
The queen turned her head away, though she doubted ignoring this problem would make it go away. When they had first come back, Anne wanted to know why she had died. Henry had loved her- he had waited so many years for her, how could he have done what he had? She was innocent of all the charges.  
In her research about herself and her memory she had found out about Jane Parker- the woman married to her brother, who should have stood by him to the grave- had told stories. Made up, disgusting, horrible things about Anne and George. About things that had never happened- things that disgusted Anne to her core.  
And then Parker had come back.  
She came back for Howard, how Maggie had come back for Anne. Served her right, Anne thought, coming back for the woman who got her beheaded.  
It was the cruelness of fate- the death Jane Parker had condemned her husband and sister-in-law to was the same one by which she met her end.  
“I know you think I did it. Katherine told me.”  
Anne wanted to ignore the girl’s words.  
“It’s all lies- I never-” her voice broke. “Your majest- Anne. Please, believe me.”  
The brunette finally turned to the other woman. “Believe you? How could I, Parker?” Her words were filled with spitfire, with hatred and blame.  
“He was my husband. Do you think I could have done that?” Her eyes were filling with tears, but she refused to look away from the queen. “Anne, you were my- my family. My queen.”  
Anne scoffed, turning her head away.  
“I never said those things. Please, believe me.” The once Viscountess Rochford was near begging.  
“But you did. There’s proof.”  
A cold laugh escaped from the back of Jane’s throat. “Proof? None of that is real. It’s all stories written years after our deaths. Do you think I could have done that, and gone to your father and fought for what was mine? That I would go back to court? To die for another woman placed in a situation so close to yours?”  
Anne Boleyn crossed her arms.  
“I would have rather gone to the scaffold than say such horrible lies, Anne.”  
“But you did go to the scaffold.”  
“Years later!”  
“If it wasn’t you, then who was it Jane?”  
“Henry, who else? Henry,Cromwell, take your pick! They wanted you gone. To replace you with the next, with someone who wouldn’t fight back. You know this Anne.” The lady-in-waiting’s tone was one of pleads, begging her sister-in-law to believe her.  
The queen bit her lip, trying to keep the walls she had built around her up. “Someone had to have said something. To make him stop loving me.” Her voice wobbled, but she kept herself together.  
“You know what he was like, Anne. You know who he was. None of us deserved what he did.” Jane’s hand reached to rub the back of her own neck- she had no memories from her execution, but sometimes, her mind would create scenarios in her sleep; her nightmares constantly haunted by the shadow of an axe. “He was a tyrant.”  
“He loved me.” Anne’s voice broke. “He loved me, Jane.”  
“He loved the idea of you.” The stage manager stepped towards the queen, who looked to be on the verge of tears. “You don’t kill what you love, Anne.”  
With those words, the brunette broke, and the dam holding the tears collapsed. “Someone- someone had to have done something!”  
Jane rushed towards the girl, wrapping her sister by marriage in her arms. “He did it. We can’t blame anyone but him.”  
Anne was shaking her head. “Please, just- he said he loved me. He married me. He made me queen.”  
Jane nodded, holding her. “Whatever it was, it wasn’t love, Anne. Obsession maybe. A hunt. He wanted to capture and cage you, and you wouldn’t break. That’s what did it.”  
The brunette tried pulling away, but there was little fight in her. She had known, deep down, that it had all been Henry. But there was a part of her, the part that had grown to love him, that wanted to believe the best. That Henry had gotten caught up in lies and had seen no other choice. Anne had wanted someone to blame, and there were so many books and films that had put the blame on Jane Boleyn. They said she was a jealous shrew- and Anne had purposefully ignored all her memories that had said different.  
But Jane held her in a tight embrace, smoothing Anne’s long dark hair in soothing strokes. They were sisters, albeit not by blood. When Jane had entered the Boleyn family, her and Anne had been fast friends. She had been Anne’s lady-in-waiting, as she had four of the other queens. But with Anne it had been different; Anne Boleyn was more than just Jane’s queen, she was her sister. Anne had taken Jane into her inner circle, and they had been close.  
And now, Jane held her closer than ever, as sobs racked through Anne’s frame.  
“It’s alright Nan, we’ll get through this,” she murmured in the brunette’s ear. “I’ve got you, I’m here. We can do this.”  
It took time, but Anne’s tears slowly stopped falling. “I want- I want everyone to know who he was. I want him to pay for it all.”


End file.
